Poems classified as: Long Poem

A literary genre that comprises of poems of a considerable length. Though there is no concrete definition of a long poem, this genre has the power to build on the theme in the most explanatory method. Ancient epics are the best examples of long poems. You are sure to get drenched in the theme and rhythm completely.

Why don’t you remember? Remember again, Music of September, I still retain. We met in the greenery, A wet, lovely scenery, A teen age romance, The music and dance. Why don’t you remember? Remember again, Magic of September, Your shyness,

I see them each day on my way to global politics 201 years worn, moss filled with cracks along the armrests I can remember one day seeing, two lovers in those chairs surely their intent, to facilitate the couples conversation

Assess the world upside down—literally— Standing in the doorway— Then upside down—in the apartment on Prescott St— Through one’s legs—everything Makes about as much sense As anything ever does. * I am hoarse with the contrived implications, Weary with the

I skipped in the school building so tall With a smile like a bubbly China doll ”I shan’t fail the test today, I know” I murmur’d, merrily dancing to and fro. ”Prepared for the test, my dear friend? I ponder

In a moonless winter night, Standing against a weathered wall, Below a lonely street lamp’s light, I watched, transfixed, Shades of life being mixed, On that dimly lit street, As if it were a canvas, On which my thoughts were

(If Mother Earth could speak…) I’m the first light of dawn setting fire to the skies, the awe that ends with a soft, sated sigh. I’m the slow, gentle sway of ancient, lofty trees, branches of life filled with wonders

What is music, one questions It’s something beyond the most vivid imagination Beyond the golden shine of the daffodil fields at sunset With their faint reflection in the crystal blue heavens above About the cherry rosettes delicately sewn on a

She sat by the fireplace waiting, For her husband’s returning. It was Christmas Eve, He would get an early leave. She had laid the table, Switched on the light cable. The fire was warm, There was a quiet charm. The

She had lived in her lonely illusions Since she first came to know of life’s lies When she first watched the sun set in silence Beneath crowded vermilion skies, Where the rain fell in multi clad colours Just like rainbows

Disabled A person having a physical or mental condition that limits movements, senses, or activities A complex phenomenon, reflecting an interaction between features of a person’s body and features of the society in which he or she lives Developmental differences

«Let this fluffy snow fall upon our Dreams and make them shine!» Set free, Your breath smoothens unshaken skies; Your perception scratches unopened realities. Is it a diversion –maybe– for lost thoughts, For lost faces and sins? Looking the other

A gentle cough, a quiet word, a morning breeze, a waking bird, Into her box her letters fall, soft flip flop slippers down a hall, A radio plays yesterdays, and on the wall a clock face says That sometimes time

He jumps, engages in acrobatic feats Drunken by coded chants and drumming Enraptured beyond mortal realm His ego tickled and heightened Gleefully he responds to each call Awed onlookers shudder and wonder At this creature with a monstrous aura With

Last night, I had the most wonderful dream, There was a river of life, flowing in a stream. And I looked upon, streets of pure gold, I saw The Promised Land, that had been foretold. Diamonds, Rubies, Sapphire, Precious Stones,

‘Twas on the eve of St Agnes’ Day, When young virgin’s minds fly astray; Stacey lay her body bare To January’s freezing air. She cast her liquid ebon eyes, Up to the boundless starry skies, Hoping to find in that

A carrot, you’re nibbling, yes the carrot they give a radish painted red, but not very deep deceiving ourselves we’re enduring the taste. Lets pursue the real before it extincts. This is the life, live it man. This is the

Oh! black clouds, Go from here, I don’t want thunders, I don’t want lightning, I don’t want rains, My beloved is away. When he left the village, I was just thirteen, But I am now sixteen, And I now understand,

Hushed gossamer twinkling wondrous night skies Crept on to tomorrow near tinted cloud dawn, So familiar life’s hopes, yet still so much surprise Each time a day cries with a sense of being born, As scurrying down skies nervous fingers

On a day icy-cold, snowy and serene Glancing through the window ebony-framed Stitched a silk scarf a genial queen Prickled when she her slim flat finger Three blood drops fell upon her sewing Gave she birth to a girl ”Snow

Wearily wandering, silently by The dreams and the wishes of yesterday’s sky, Remembering far away promises made Just pieces of flotsam adrift in the shade, Like explorers of truthfulness they travel on, Until every connection with yesterday is gone, And

In the great dark void before He made our universe, God was primordially drunk on poetry and verse; Poesy sublimely crowned His high and haloed head As subliminally, He poeticized the decrees He made. In that last timeless even, before

Moving softly down the stairs with Isa holding tightly to her mother’s hand. Leanora was looking to the left and the right across the large hallway The thought of leaving her home was so horrendous to her . There was